Injuries and Recovery
by Paelen the Magnificent
Summary: When Aragorn and Legolas go camping, Frodo insists on coming, also. But Frodo gets severely injured, and the pair have to get him back to Rivendell before he dies. NO SLASH THIS IS ONLY RATED T FOR INJURY DESCRIPTIONS AND PAIN
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Lord of the Rings! All rights to Tolkien!

The silent breeze floated through the trees and whispered of strange, forlorn pleas. "A stranger lurks in these woods. A stranger…a stranger…" It whispers to its companions. "Something is wrong…wrong…something is very wrong…"

The elf was yanked out of his peaceful sleep to a despairing, strangled cry. He got to his feet and surveyed their camp silently. Aragorn was sleeping peacefully a few feet from Legolas' own bed of pine needles. The elf's keen, blue eyes scanned the rest of the camp. Their campfire had a few remaining red embers, but most of it had died away. Then his steady gaze fell upon Frodo's bed, and he found that it was empty. Another cry pierced the night sky, and suddenly the elf knew whose it was.  
"Aragorn! Aragorn, awake! Awake! Frodo is in trouble!"  
Aragorn bolted upright, Andúril in his hand. "What is it, Legolas? What is wrong?"  
"Frodo! He is in danger!" Legolas dashed off in the direction of the screams, followed closely by Aragorn. They ran for a few minutes before spotting a small clearing in the dense woods. They ran into it and discovered a smoldering campfire surrounded by small articles of various items. In the midst of them was a small lump. Aragorn ran forward and found that the lump was a body. He rolled it over onto its back and gasped. "Frodo." He whispered.  
The young hobbit was unconscious; his dark hair matted and bloodied, and his usually peaceful expression filled with pain. His left arm was splayed out at an odd angle, and so was his right leg. But what worried the experienced Ranger most was the deep, bloody stab wound on the hobbit's shoulder.  
The man cast a nervous glance at Legolas, who was checking the area to make sure it was free of enemies. When he looked back down to Frodo, the hobbit's eyes fluttered open.  
"Aragorn." He croaked feebly. "Aragorn, they have…they have…fled."  
"Who has fled?" Aragorn asked quietly.  
"The men."  
"Men?"  
The hobbit barely nodded his head and closed his eyes. "They fled when they…heard…you—" He was cut off by a gasp of pain.  
"Frodo, you must remain calm. We're going to get you back to our camp, and you can tell us what happened." Legolas appeared by Aragorn's side, a grim expression on his face.  
"They are gone, Aragorn. There is no one around."  
The man nodded his head. "Help me carry him back to camp, Legolas."  
The elf said nothing, but carefully and quickly picked Frodo up. A cry of pain escaped the hobbit's lips as the elf carried him quickly away from the site of the young one's torture.  
They made it back to their campsite in no time at all. Legolas gently placed the whimpering hobbit down on his bedroll and covered him with a blanket. "What happened?" The elf asked gently.  
"Men…they kidnapped…me." He took a deep breath and moaned. "Asked me…" Aragorn joined Legolas with his pack and started to rummage through it. "Where…it was."  
"Where what was?" Legolas pressed.  
"I…I don't…know."  
Aragorn grabbed his water canteen and Legolas helped Frodo drink some, but he quickly coughed it back up, which only aggravated his wounds, making him cry out. "Shhh, Frodo. You are going to be fine." Legolas spoke soothingly.  
The hobbit whimpered as Aragorn probed along his injured arm. When he hit an especially swelled spot, Frodo screamed and jerked his arm away, which only resulted in another cry of pain. Legolas cradled Frodo's head in his lap and spoke quietly. "Shhh, Frodo. I know it hurts. But you must remain still so Aragorn can help you."  
The Ranger said nothing, but carefully moved the hobbit's arm back onto the ground. He touched the area again, trying to figure exactly where the bone had broken. The muscles in Frodo's broken arm tensed, and he gave a small gasp when the man touched the right spot. "I'll need to set the bone." He said it more to himself than to the injured hobbit. "I am sorry, Frodo. But this will hurt."


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. All rights to JRR Tolkien!**

"Aragorn, could we not take him back to Imladris? To the Houses of Healing?" Legolas asked quietly.  
"No." Aragorn did not look up. "We have to set the bones in his arm and leg, and tend to his wounds first." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Or he may not survive."  
Another whimper escaped the hobbit and Aragorn turned back to his patient. "Legolas, tessa ho tulunka." Aragorn purposefully told his friend to hold the hobbit steady in elvish so as not to panic him.  
"Frodo, I am going to set your arm first, okay?" The hobbit didn't respond, though Aragorn knew he was not unconscious. As soon as the experienced Healer touched the broken arm, the hobbit flinched and bit his lip. Legolas gently held him and gave him a cloth to put in his mouth so he could bite down on it as Aragorn set the bone. Frodo squeezed his eyes shut as the Ranger carefully lifted the arm. Then, with a sickening crack and a wail from the injured hobbit, Aragorn yanked the bone and it snapped back into place. As Legolas tried to comfort the whimpering hobbit, Aragorn yanked strips off of his own shirt and used them to bind Frodo's arm tightly, careful not to cut off the blood flow. After he was finished, he examined Frodo's leg, which was, as he discovered, a compound fracture.  
"All I can do for his leg is bind it to keep the bone in place. I cannot risk forcing the bone back beneath the skin." He said to Legolas. The elf nodded and continued speaking softly to the hobbit, who was now in complete distress. As Aragorn began to quickly wrap the silky white cloth around the injured leg, Frodo began to cry out even more loudly. The Ranger had to block out the hobbit's agonized cries and steady his shaking hands. Emotion ripped through him by the time he finished binding his leg.  
The elf was rocking Frodo gently back and forth, singing a quiet song. The young hobbit was shaking so badly it made Aragorn feel guilty for inflicting so much pain on the small being. "I am sorry, Frodo. It had to be done."  
Almost imperceptibly, he nodded. Before long, the hobbit had quieted down and Aragorn was able to wash the stab wound that marred his right shoulder. After wrapping a layer of cloth around that, the experienced Healer took Frodo from Legolas and held him in his arms, reassuring him that he would be okay. But Aragorn only hoped that he was right.

**Sorry this chapter was so short. I lost track of time and I try to post often so my readers don't get bored of waiting. I do have readers, right? Review! Please review! I would like to know what you guys think and if anyone's even reading this! Otherwise, I feel like an idiot talking to myself.**  
**"Take everything you can and give nothing back." –Captain Jack Sparrow**  
**Hee hee! That's my motto!**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Lord of the Rings! All rights to JRR Tolkien!**

Before his stallion could protest, Legolas had already bridled him and led him over to where Aragorn was still rocking Frodo gently in his arms. "Aragorn, we should go now."  
The Ranger nodded and looked down at the sleeping hobbit. Lines of pain ran across the young one's face and his eyes were squeezed shut as if enduring a nightmare. Aragorn stood and carefully placed Frodo on his horse, Roheryn's, back. A whimper escaped the hobbit, though he was still unconscious. Aragorn wondered who could have done such a thing to such an innocent creature.

_**Frodo—Flashback**_

_Snap! Frodo jerked awake, still wary of every little sound, despite the absence of the Ring. He looked up to see Legolas dozing peacefully and Aragorn sleeping quietly on his bedroll several meters away. He sighed and lay back down, but just as he did, a rough hand clamped over his mouth. He tried to scream and alert someone, but the grip on his jaws got tighter and lifted him into the air. Frodo panicked. He kicked and struggled against the strong arms, but his small noises were so silent not even his elf friend awoke. He was carried through the forest, and finally, after a while, stopped struggling. He had worn himself out from trying to get away, and was about to fall asleep in his captor's arms when he was dropped violently to the ground. He squealed as he hit the ground and the air was knocked out of him. Before he could regain his breath, he was shoved brutally against a tree trunk and his big blue eyes locked on his captor's dark brown ones._  
_ "So, where is it?" He growled._  
_ Frodo barely shook his head and said, "What…?"_  
_ Suddenly he was grabbed by the neck and hoisted into the air. Frodo felt the remaining air he had in his lungs quickly escaping , but he could not pull any more in._  
_ "Where is it?" The man cried, angry this time._  
_ The hobbit tried to answer, but he had run out of breath and he was finding it hard to just stay conscious. Finally, he was released of the death hold and thrown back to the ground. He greedily sucked in all the air he could get before his captor grabbed him again._  
_ "You'd better answer me!" He threatened, unsheathing a knife and brandishing it in front of the hobbit's face._  
_ Terror consumed Frodo's heart as he stared at the glittering weapon. He shook his head again. "I don't know what you're talking about."_  
_ "Yes…you…do!"_  
_ Before the young hobbit could move, the man thrust the knife into his shoulder, eliciting a cry of agony from his prisoner. Black spots started to swim around in front his eyes as unconsciousness tried to take him. A fiery pain was shooting down his arm and through his body. He was beginning to find it very hard to breathe, and he was afraid he would die here by the hands of these evil men._  
_ The men didn't even ask him again, they just picked him up and threw him back down, aggravating the wound on his shoulder._  
_ He was suddenly lifted up again and pinned against the man behind him, his injured arm yanked behind him and held by the man. He bit back the agonizing cry that was welling up in his throat as the man punched him in the stomach. He stared defiantly at his captor, and as soon as he did, the man holding his arm jerked it at an awkward angle and he heard a loud snap. Frodo could not hold back the scream that followed the sickening sound of his arm being broken. He was thrown to the ground, three men staring down at him._  
_ "Immobilize him. We don't want our prisoner running away, now do we, men?" One of them, whom Frodo assumed was the leader, looked at the other two men and laughed. He tried to wiggle out of the way, but one man grabbed him and the other snatched up his leg and yanked it hard. For the second time that night, Frodo heard the crack of bone. He could not stop himself from whimpering quietly as the men laughed even harder. Frodo knew this was going to be the end of him, but right when the thoughts crossed his mind, all three men jerked upright and stared in the distance._  
_ "Someone's coming!" One of them hissed._  
_ All at once, the three of them dashed off into the distance, leaving Frodo alone, fighting for his very life._

**_Frodo-end flashback_**

Frodo jerked upright in Aragorn's arms, breathing hard and with the image of the three men still swimming in his mind. White-hot pain ripped through him as his shoulder wound was aggravated yet again. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, steadying his spinning, painful world. He turned slowly and found he was gazing into his friend's gray eyes.  
"Aragorn." He said weakly.  
"It is all right, Frodo. It was only a dream." He carefully eased Frodo back down into his arms and stood, carrying him over to where Legolas was waiting with the horses.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. All rights to the fabulous J.R.R. Tolkien!**

** Sorry for the long wait, I got caught up in some other stuff. I will be starting reviewer responses, which will be below. Hope you like it! :)**

Frodo stayed conscious through the whole ride back to Rivendell, trying desperately to not cry out in pain every time the horse took a step. Though Aragorn carried him gently and did his best to keep Frodo as still as possible, the Ranger could still feel the young hobbit was tense with pain.  
The horses were at a lofty canter, their legs seeming to be flowing like water over the rough ground. Roheryn knew he had a special burden, one that was injured. The graceful stallion tried his best to move as smoothly as possible to keep his passenger from pain.  
Since they had not traveled far from Rivendell, they made it there at dawn. As Legolas' horse made its way through the gates, he stared at the beautiful sunrise, pink and purple streaks spreading from the brilliant ball of light.  
Elrond came out of the house, smiling, to meet them; but as soon as he saw the nearly unconscious form in Aragorn's arms, he gasped and rushed forward. The elf lord took Frodo from his son's arms, gazing down at the hobbit and assessing his wounds. Legolas and Aragorn joined Elrond after handing their horses over to a servant.  
"Legolas, get Elladan and Elrohir." He looked up at the Ranger. "Aragorn, prepare a room for him."  
Both of them nodded and dashed off.  
Though he was careful as he could be, the hobbit in his arms still whimpered when Elrond ascended the stairs. When he made it to the top, he entered the freshly made room and laid Frodo down on the bed gently. Aragorn sank down on the bed beside Frodo and began to speak to him, his voice barely above a whisper. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas all burst into the room at once, one of the twins holding a basin of hot water and the other his father's healing supplies.  
"Thank you, Elrohir." The elf lord thanked his son when he was handed the supplies. Carefully peeling back the bandage on the hobbit's shoulder first, he winced at the sight of the ugly wound. He dipped a cloth in the water and cleansed the wound thoroughly, trying to ignore the young one's wails. When he finished, he applied some salve to decrease the pain and a bit of athelas to start the wound on its way to healing. Next Elrond unwrapped the bandage around his patient's arm and fitted it with a sturdy sling.  
And, finally, the thing the elf lord was most dreading. He unbound the cloth around Frodo's leg and inspected the injury. The bone had pierced through the skin, and blood still oozed from the wound it had caused.  
"Elladan, Elrohir, hold him steady." He told his two sons in elvish. He was going to have to set the bone, which meant putting it back under the skin. With each one of the twins holding Frodo down gently but firmly and Aragorn holding the hobbit's hand, Elrond set the bone.  
With a snap, he jerked it downwards, and the bone slid back where it should be. The Ranger could almost not bear the screams that tore from Frodo's lips. He tried to soothe him, but to no avail.  
When Elrond had finished bandaging the leg, he spoke a few comforting words to Frodo, then left to clean his supplies and try to calm his nerves.  
The three elves and one man in the room still with Frodo were all disheartened when the hobbit went unconscious, though they knew it was for his own good. The hobbit would have experienced far much more pain if he were awake much longer.

** Well, there you go everyone—lots of Frodo angst. I hope everyone is enjoying this story. It will probably only be two or three more chapters, 'cause I can't really get into it. I don't really like it either, I'm just doing this for you guys. So you'd better review! :)**

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_**IndiaMoore: Thanks for all the encouragement! I really appreciate that!**_


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Lord of the Rings, and I never will. All rights to J.R.R. Tolkien!

Sorry it took so long! :P I got caught up in a bunch of other stuff. But anyway, you probably don't want to hear me blab, so I'll shut up now. Hope you like this chapter!

Pain. Unbearable, white-hot, fiery pain. That was what Frodo Baggins of Bag End woke up to. His shoulder was probably the worst. Opening his eyes slowly, he discovered he was lying in a clean, white bed in a beautiful room. He looked around and realized that he was indeed in Rivendell. _How did I get_ _here?_ He thought.  
Suddenly the door opened silently and Lord Elrond stepped in.  
"Frodo, I am glad to see you are awake!"  
The hobbit said nothing, but just smiled. _What do you say to an elf lord?_  
The elf came to sit beside his bed. "Are you feeling better?"  
"Not really." He was surprised that that was his own voice. It sounded hoarse and scratchy, as if he hadn't drank anything in days.  
"Here, let me check your wounds." He checked the knife wound first, and found that it was indeed healing. His arm was just the same, but then again, Elrond hadn't expected it to make any drastic changes overnight. When he got to the hobbit's leg, he got a little worried. The bleeding had stopped, but infection had set in.  
How could this have happened? He asked himself. He quickly retrieved some herbs from the bedisde table and washed the wound again before puttting the herbs to work. He bandaged the wound and sat back to examine his work.  
"Are you in much pain?"  
"A little." Actually, that was an understatement. Frodo was in extreme pain, but he just didn't want to admit it in front of the elf lord.  
"Here, drink this." Elrond held up a glass of tinted water.  
Frodo took it and drank it all in one gulp, being as how he was very thirsty already. Sighing, he asked, "What was that?"  
"Just a little something to relieve the pain." He said. "You get some rest, young hobbit."  
And with that, the elf left the room.

-

A week later, Frodo was out of bed and sitting in the gardens, enjoying the peaceful morning. His shoulder wound was healing nicely now that the infection was gone, and both of his broken limbs were still in casts, but did not pain him much.  
"Good morning, Frodo." The hobbit looked up to see Aragorn walking towards him.  
"Good morning."  
"Feeling better?"  
The hobbit just nodded. "Aragorn,"  
"Yes?"  
"I wonder who those men were." He turned his gaze on the man. "I mean, what did they want?"  
"Just thieves. They're always prowling in the woods at night." The Ranger looked around. "But I didn't think there would be any this close to Rivendell." He looked back at Frodo. "I'm just glad you're well again."  
"So am I."  
And with those last words, Frodo began his journey on the slippery slope to recovery.

_**This was the last chapter everyone, and I am SO sorry. I just couldn't get into this story and really feel it and write it well, if you know what I mean. I'm sorry if I disappointed you guys, I feel super bad about that, but ever since I started this its been such a chore to write. I just don't like it. Again, I am so sorry about the lame angst story. I will try to write another that I can 'get into'**__._

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_**IndiaMoore: I'm so sorry that I let you down. I could tell from your review that you wanted to see some setbacks and stuff, but I just really dislike this story. Anyway, thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**_

_**Paelen**_


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